now for what I want to know. You have no doubt in your mind that
your husband, Count Ladislaus Shulski, is dead? There is no possible
mistake in his identity? I believe the face was practically shot away,
was it not? I have taken the precaution to inform myself upon every
point, from the authorities at Monte Carlo, but I wish for your final
testimony."

"Ladislaus Shulski is dead," she said quietly, in a tone as though it
gave her pleasure to say it. "The woman Feto caused the fray, Ivan
Larski shot him in her arms; he was her lover who paid, and Ladislaus
the _amant du coeur_ for the moment. She wailed over the body like a
squealing rabbit. She was there lamenting his fine eyes when they sent
for me! They were gone for ever, but no one could mistake his curly
hair, nor his cruel, white hands. Ah! it was a scene of disgust! I have
witnessed many ugly things but that was of the worst. I do not wish to
talk of it; it is passed a year ago. Feto heaped his grave with flowers,
and joined the hero, Larski, who was allowed to escape, so all was
well."

"And since then you have lived from hand to mouth, with those others."
And here Francis Markrute's voice took on a new shade: there was a cold
hate in it.

"I have lived with my little brother, Mirko, and Mimo. How could I
desert them? And sometimes we have found it hard at the end of the
quarter--but it was not always as bad as that, especially when Mimo sold
a picture--"

"I will not hear his name!" Francis Markrute said with some excitement.
"In the beginning, if I could have found him I would have killed him, as
you know, but now the carrion can live, since my sister is dead. He is
not worth powder and shot."

The Countess Shulski gave the faintest shrug of her shoulders, while her
eyes grew blacker with resentment. She did not speak. Francis Markrute
stood by the mantelpiece, and lit a cigar before he continued; he knew
he must choose his words as he was dealing with no helpless thing.

"You are twenty-three years old, Zara, and you were married at
sixteen," he said at last. "And up to thirteen at least I know you were
very highly educated--You understand something of life, I expect."

"Life!" she said--and now there was a concentrated essence of bitterness
in her voice. "_Mon Dieu!_ Life--and men!"

"Yes, you probably think you know men."

She lifted her upper lip a little, and showed her even teeth--it was
like an animal snarling.

"I know that they are eith